The Way Things Fall Apart
by HowToTrainYourPrat
Summary: Even the most extraordinary stories can have the most ordinary of problems. Just because the problems are ordinary does not make them any easier to handle. If only they had realized things were falling before they fell in such an awful way, they might have been able to rebuild it all.


**I'm not going to lie. I'm struggling to get back into my other stories. I'm doing better recently with short things because between my last stretch of college and working in the big girl world, I am over trying to be a good life living person. **

**Here's a shorter story though. Be warned, you may cry. **

**I do not own PJO. No one owns the Greek pantheon. And pop tarts are not f_cking ravioli, Jeff!**

_Aequa lege necessitas sortitur insignes et imos_

Life has a funny way of working out.

And a funny way of falling apart all at once.

Annabeth honestly thought they would be okay after everything. The Giant War was over. Leo had returned. They suffered such minimal casualties. The nightmares from Tartarus were not so bad once the camp was back in place and put together.

The Romans know how to rebuild, that's for sure.

They all are very good at rebuilding.

Sure, she, Percy, and Nico were a little worse for wear. Malnutrition. Dehydration. The whole lot of them literally had the shit beat out of them. But all in all they were bouncing back quick. Percy, who seemed to be healing the slowest and riddled with the most complications after the plethora of curses he took, has been cleared to go back to full activities.

Admittedly her boyfriend had spent a lot of time with his mom and, since returning to normal means she has to go back to work on Olympus, they've spent more time apart than either of them prefer.

In the end, that's what she blames. The fact that she's actually seen so little of him. The fact that he was with his mom and not at camp, where the more medically inclined campers like Will (who's taken it upon himself to become Percy's personal doctor) can keep an eye on him. The fact that his mom is also pregnant and just about to have her second child any day and doesn't have her normal prowess to see through her son, what with her relief at him being alive and the fact that the nursery is nowhere near complete.

They're back at camp when things really go wrong. He's teaching a sword class and she's sitting in the bleachers, working furiously on a few blueprints for her own mother.

She'll be angry at herself later.

She doesn't notice his occasional coughs or the way he's short of breath, but a few of the older campers in the class (it's a mix of campers from various cabins, both roman and greek) later report that he was. They ask him about it and he just laughs it off.

There's the distinct thump of a body hitting the sandy ground of the training arena. That's nothing new. What startles Annabeth out of her revere is the immediate shouting and clamor that arises after it. She looks up but a mass of sweaty orange and purple t-shirts blocks her view. She straightens up a bit, stretching her neck to see over them, but she's not particularly worried.

They have nectar and ambrosias for goodness sakes. Anyway, Percy would make a big deal out of it if a camper had been seriously injured.

Percy.

It clicks a moment before Hazel (who she hadn't even realized was in the class) is shouting her name from the middle of the hoard.

She doesn't remember shoving through them, doesn't remember even standing, or crossing half the length of the room in what must have been seconds. More than likely they let the steely eyed half-goddess through. She imagines her fiercely protective nature was a bit scary to the younger ones.

He's choking when she gets there, balled up and pale. Hazel is trying desperately to sooth him.

When the dark-skinned girl sees Annabeth she shuffles a bit out of the way, quickly muttering out that someone is getting help, before going back to trying to ease her cousin's pain. Because he's in pain, his eyes screwed shut and his chest heaving as he struggles to pull in even the littlest amount of air. His clenched fist is speckled with blood and there's a small trail of it from the corner of his mouth.

Annabeth's heart stutters frantically. She notices how chalky his skin is as she rocks him into a position better suited to opening up his airways. The boy- no, man, who has always been a nice authentic Greek tan, is lighter than she is. He's clammy to the touch and sweating through his shirt more than is normal for a simple coaching session.

She's also feels his spine through his shirt and a part of her not buried under her instinct to fix panics a little. Has he gained no weight back after Tartarus?!

Finally, his choking abates for the most part and with Annabeth's instructions to breath slowly, he is actually pulling in oxygen. His eyes flicker open, squinting against the light, even though it's evening now and the sun has long ceased to be unforgiving, especially behind the large walls of the training arena.

Will is there a moment later, squatting down, and asking questions in a rapid fire way. Since Percy seems unable to keep up Hazel is answering the ones she can with other campers chiming in. Annabeth feels a bit useless at the moment.

Then Will turns his full attention on the son of Poseidon. He says nothing until Percy's wavering gaze lands steadily enough on his. Slowly, he says, "Where's it hurt, Perce?"

Annabeth wants to suck in a breath because Will doesn't seem surprised and he's not hurried, which means he likely already knows what's going on.

"..m'chest." Percy mumbles, hand coming up to grasp his shirt just over where his left lung is. The daughter of Athena's mind is whirring with the dismal medical knowledge she has, but it's not enough to draw conclusions. Maybe she doesn't want it to be anyway. "S'tight and .." he winces. "..hurts."

Honestly, the sky must be falling, Atlas at long last having succeed in shirking his burden and damning the consequences. Even at 12, minotaur recently conquered, and his mother lost to the wind, Percy had not seemed so vulnerable as he does in this moment.

'_Mother…_' the daughter of Athena silently prays. '_please let just be an exaggeration for the flu or a really bad cold… or he's broken a rib and it's hit his lung. Anything fixable. Please!_'

She knows her desperate thoughts are heard, her mother so very inclined to listen to her after the war and the gods having backed off on their rules after the last war's conclusion. Percy himself has visited his dad at least twice. She doesn't know the stubborn goddess will listen or even cares about Percy enough despite her daughter's strong attachments, but she sends her prayer.

"Alight," Will says quietly. "Let's get you back to your cabin. I'll run the diagnostics I need there. Think you can stand?"

Percy's face says it all. No, standing will be unbearable. Yet, he does it anyway. Leveraging himself first on his elbows and then his knees. At last, one first under him at a time and he's pulling himself up using his girlfriend's arm in a vice-like grip. Annabeth is taking nearly all of his weight and Hazel looks about ready to sweep him off his feet, size difference be damned, but he's standing.

And they are walking. Slowly, Oh, so slowly.

The dark haired teenager (so close to adulthood) coughs harshly several times, struggling as more blood comes up and his chest heaves with every step. They've only made it ten meters away from the training grounds when Will squats in front of them, offering his back to Percy.

The poor demigod obviously wants to refuse, his pride bristling despite years of it being stripped away over and over. However, he won't make it. Annabeth realizes it then, but her boyfriend likely knew it before he even stood up.

"Where's Chiron?" she asks, as the blonde son of Apollo stands, hands carefully bracing the other man who is limply holding on. Percy is actually taller by a few inches so they make quite the pair, but it's also apparent now how little he must weigh. Will doesn't seem to be struggling at all and Annabeth's arms feel empty like never before.

Will sighs as he begins walking again. "He'll meet us there. I ran into him as we were both on our way over. Didn't think it was necessary we both show up and worry the kids more."

"Why do I get the feeling you knew something like this might happen?" Annabeth says, an accusing note to her voice.

Percy looks at her, his eyes heavy even as he opens his mouth to try to say something. Will beats him to it. "We didn't know something like this would happen, but his lungs were weak when you returned. Both of yours were. More so than Nico's, but you both had higher exposure to the air down there. Yours healed quickly. Percy's…. his lungs were why we kept him off full activities for so long. Chiron and I both thought it was just delayed healing, like all his other injuries, caused by a lingering curse or something…"

She tries to seek out Percy's green eyes, but the demigod has them closed as he sags onto the shoulders in front of him. She has the feeling he's listening though, because his shoulders are tense and that's just who he is.

"But it's not?" Annabeth asks. Even she has to admit that her voice sounds lost. Percy cracks open one eye to look over worriedly. She'd hit him if he didn't look ready to break apart. Stupid seaweed brain, always worrying about her when he should worry about himself.

"I don't think so," Will stops briefly and shuffles Percy back into a better position. The son of Poseidon grunts a bit in pain. "Sorry, Perce. No, delayed healing or asthma, whatever conclusions I had before are not adequate to explain his symptoms now."

She glares at him a little. Tired of him beating around the bush. "Then what would could it be?"

He doesn't say anything and they spend another minute walking in silence. They're on the threshold of the Poseidon cabin when he looks over at her. "Let me run some diagnostics first. I'll send someone to get you when we're done and then I'll tell you."

She's so stunned (she's actually always been quite proud of her ability to get campers to talk with just a look) that she doesn't even stop the door from closing her out.

Her hand seems to reach forward of its own accord, and she feels the aged driftwood beneath her fingertips. It feels different somehow, the cool grains less refreshing and more isolating. She can hear Chiron and Will whispering on the other side, but she can't make out what they're saying.

Occasionally she hears coughing.

She wonders if the Romans can rebuild a person. They rebuilt part of the woods and that's composed of living nymphs. Does Leo have more of that serum he used to magic himself back to life and pop up happily at his own funeral, _that_ girl at his side? He had heard stories of how Percy had returned, and he was surprisingly good natured about the other demigod's relationship gone stale with _that girl_. He'd found it completely necessary to recreate that awful event apparently.

Maybe she can call in a favor with Apollo himself. Surely the god owes them several times over by now. Or they can send Percy down to stay with his dad. The saltwater will definitely be able to ease whatever is attacking his lungs. A few weeks there and he'll be good as new as long as he doesn't anger his mother-in-law or half-brother.

She should stop acting like this is a worst-case scenario, though. It's probably pneumonia, which hasn't been deadly to demigods since the camps were built and demigods began having easy access to nectar.

He'll be fine.

He has to be.


End file.
